I have lead a double life these past few weeks.
Yes, I have worked the podium from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Before and after, however, I have been operating under another identity: Private Event Planning Gal.
And I love it.
You see, the full-time private event manager took an impromptu vacation. I had always wanted to be involved with private event planning, so it was natural that The Gal step in to help.
Turns out, I have found my calling.
I can sell any party, any time, to any one.
Not just because I am born to sell. But because I believe we have a beautiful room, awesome wait staff who work the parties, and the potential to do much more. Selling that package is hardly work.
During these past weeks, I have made it my goal to book as many parties as I could, and to make sure all went well for the events happening on my watch while the manager was away.
Today, I even took myself off the podium because the event’s hosts were nervous and needed “The Suit” to make the visible rounds to ensure all was well. They were so nice, so worried, and so in need of reassurance, I felt I had no choice but to be available to them.
All went REALLY well. Not a hitch. I was amazed and relieved by this.
And I learned much, both today and throughout this past week. Although I still don’t know how to carry a heavy tray laden with multiple plates of fruit and not feel my wrist give out, I am pretty good at coordinating between the chef plating the food and the waiters serving it. I may not know how to use Micros all that well, but I know how to make the event honoree feel truly honored and his staff know they gave him a great send-off. I may not know all the ins and outs of the ins and outs, but I know I can know pick them up pretty quick as I need to.
Ah, but there’s a “but” to this story.
But, the private event manager returns tomorrow.
What will become of the holiday parties I booked–will they be festive enough, as I promised they would be? What will happen to the rehearsal dinner’s open bar this weekend–will it stay open so the late-arriving frat brothers feel part of the party? How about the retirement luncheon with the notes on multiple allergy restrictions–will those guests who thought to send me their complete medical histories be okay with poached chicken breasts, no sauce whatsoever?
And what will become of The Gal–The Gal who got a taste of this other side and now wonders if she has found the niche to which she is completely and naturally suited in the whirlwind hospitality biz.
But tomorrow I will head back to my podium. I’ll wave to my regulars, smile at almost everyone, and curse an errant pager or two.
I’m good at that too.
I just wonder if I am better at the other.